Yuka Scattered Shard Of Yokai ❲2027❳

It wasn't a large shard—no bigger than a broken teacup's handle. But it was a yokai shard, which meant it had once belonged to a creature that existed in the margin between a blink and a breath. The thing it came from had no name anymore; the shard was all that remained after a shrine priestess had purified it two centuries ago. Now, it hummed with the ghost of mischief.

She held it up to the lantern light. The shard glittered with an internal twilight—deep purples, greens like swamp water, a flicker of foxfire. Then, because she was seventeen and bored and had just lost her mother to a long sickness, she whispered: yuka scattered shard of yokai

“I wish you’d do something interesting.” It wasn't a large shard—no bigger than a

Yuka's hand went to her pocket. The rest of the shard. Still whole. Still wrapped in silk. Now, it hummed with the ghost of mischief